Vilsen

I hope to bring some of you with me on this new chapter but, until then:

deusvocat​:

   ‘There’s a beast hidden within this?’

   A warm smile spread across Volo’s face, along with a dull ache in his jaw and cheekbones: before this day, it had been so very long since he’d used those muscles. His new friend’s skepticism was heartening, for Volo had once heard many of Jubilife’s villagers whispering similar things. Many of the clanspeople, too, had said much worse things.

“Why, yes! Any Pokémon - no matter how big they are - can become small enough to fit inside a Poké Ball.”

   Volo knew nothing of Kari’s people, but perhaps they held the same sleepy potential for change - for better and for worse. Such changes always happened slowly, exception by exception, one little loophole at a time. It seemed they, too, were already taking steps in that direction, even if it were only for a single species.

“Starly…?”

   Volo had intended to ask why, but his question got no further than that single word, for he could not let go of what the girl had uttered just before that. It had taken a moment or two to sink in, but the more he considered her words, the more his smile faded, until it had been fully replaced by a troubled frown.

   (Frowning hurts less than smiling, he noted in the back of his mind. He was sure that the reverse used to be true.)

‘And so we try and purge them from the forests around our village…’

   To Volo’s knowledge, the people of Jubilife Village had never gone to those extremes. If this town had such systems in place, would they not wonder with narrowed eyes at a story of a girl being attacked by a huge and unfamiliar beast that seemed to come from nowhere?

   Volo did not have sight of his Garchomp at all hours of the day, and though he’d tried to keep a low profile once he’d realised he was in the vicinity of a settlement, he could not prevent the dragon from hunting now and again. It would have been unfair. Cruel, even. With any luck, Garchomp may have made a mark in the woods over the last few days. Some footprints here, a discarded bone or two there -

   Would they have let a young girl go wandering alone, if that were the case?

   The structures that marked the town’s boundary drew nearer.

   To Kari, it may have seemed that Volo had slowed down for her sake - perhaps, too, for the sake of letting her grow accustomed to the sight of the Poké Ball in his hand. But, to Volo’s eyes, it seemed as though he was standing still, while the town rushed towards him at terrifying speed. He saw the towers as much taller than they truly were, taller than the watchtowers at Jubilife Village. Though it was daylight, in some glances he imagined he could see torches aflame and in motion.

   He thought of those first few weeks after the confrontation with Akari, and the time he’d spent avoiding the eyes of similar watchtowers, begging at the side of wagon-worn dirt-tracks for scraps of food and information from his former guildmates, always - always - ready to run -

‘Father has decided that they are far too dangerous.’

   Her father, then, must have been one of the town’s leaders. What would he think, to see his daughter being led home by a strange, unkempt man who wielded such beasts? And was there mud upon her clothing? Was she hurt at all? Volo did not dare to look, much less to ask, but he inhaled loudly at the thought.

   Kari’s question about the inhabitant of the cross-marked capsule would go unanswered, for Volo did not hear it. Nor did he notice the girl extending her hand towards that which she so feared. He would have greatly appreciated her curiosity, applauded and encouraged her bravery, had his head not been filled with angry roars, the sound of his own heartbeat, and those same words that she’d spoken -

  ‘And so we try and purge them from the forests around our village for the safety of the children and women…’

   Volo’s jaw threatened to chatter, and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes; if he blinked too many times, they would surely fall. He had been allowing his Pokémon to roam in these woods, with and without him, blissfully unaware that the people who lived nearby were so hostile. What would he have done, if something had befallen any of his dear companions? A people who lived in such ignorance and fear - would they know the difference between a ferocious Pokémon and a docile one? A wild Pokémon and a trained one?

  What are the Starly kept for, then? They’re hardly a plentiful food source. A good species for children to raise, yes, but if nobody is raising Pokémon here…

   Volo quickly slipped Togekiss’ ball back into the safety of his satchel. His other hand’s grip tightened momentarily on the basket’s handle, knuckles losing their colour as he tried to imagine that he was holding his sanity together within that clenched fist.  

   “Oh, young lady…?”

   He called to her, as though he had forgotten that she was right beside him, no longer lingering a few steps behind as she had been at first. His voice was thin and strained, like a rope pulled too taut. His footsteps, which had been gradually becoming heavier and slower, now ground to a halt.

   “I’ve enjoyed your company, and I’m glad to see you safe, but I fear I cannot accompany you any further. As you have surely seen - though you are too polite to remark upon it - I’m a man of the wilderness. For years, Pokémon - the beasts that your father considers so dangerous - have been my only kin. Perhaps I have more in common with them, now, than with any human beings! With that in mind, I do not wish to cause any alarm to your people.”

   Volo held Kari’s basket towards her and loosened his grip upon it, so that the handle merely rested upon the curve of his trembling fingers, ready to be reclaimed. As he looked down upon her for what he thought may be the last time - there really is some resemblance, even if it’s not much -  a few tears broke free from his eyelashes. They might have been invisible, had they not streaked their way through the thin layer of grime upon his face. Even so, and though it hurt, he forced another smile.

“Please give your father my best wishes, and my assurance that I will leave this place at once.”

-She wandered in tow, beside and eventually before; and it was upon her heel of which little Kari eventually turned. Stood now between him and the end of the world – or, perhaps more accurately, himself and the life that set them apart. If she’d been looking for an answer to her query, then it was something that she’d have to stomach going without. For Volo hid the hardened shell from her sight, deep once more within his heavy satchel of further miraculous beasts; and when he spoke to her, she felt as though he’d mingled with that of birds chipper.

She did not understand him.

The smell of the shore, down past rolling hills of spring bloom, permeated the air with its salty, vicious stench – and had she not grown used to it from the years spent upon the land, then perhaps she would’ve blamed it as the source for her knotting insides. The ache that welled within her breast.  Young lady, he called her, and only then did she realize that neither of them knew the others true name. He was Lukas, yet not Lukas, and she? She was nobody at all to him. Before he could finish his spiel, his grandiose justification for his (if she’d only known) cowardice, Kari countered his judgement with her own.-

“No,”-she opposed, a shake to her head of which resembled that of toddler-esque theatrics.- “No, I see nothing of you that’s beastly or monstrous. Wielder or not. Passerine or bird of prey, you have a decent heart within you.

-Here, she would plead. Reaching to grasp his limp hand rather than the basket so kindly offered. “Please,”-oh, such heartache in that one word.- “If you must take your leave, at least allow me to-“

“Kari…!”

-Further down her own self-righteous spiel, however, she did not come. For a man bellowed into the ether her god given name, her blessing and curse and oh – it was him! Below hills parted by unkempt fields, where a break between the forest and manmade land met – a soil path belting into wood and stone, snaking its way through the earth - men adorned in heavy furs, quivers and bows walked. Amongst them, one who caused her heart to flutter and her eyes to sting with fresh, salty tears.  Volo, her vagabond, may as well have not existed then. Grasping his hand was something she never ended up doing, for as easily as she’d reached for him; she now reached for her wear. Her garb was hastily, messily, gathered around her hips – leaving her dirty soles and bruised ankles bare (oh, she would be scolded had she done that any other day!) – before, by a twist of her feet, Kari raced down the honey speckled hills. Midst the men, fjälljägare, as they were so affectionately called, were a man whom was notably un-brutish. Clad in silky garbs unbefitting the soiled outdoors, slicked back locks the color of unblemished skies; he, you see, had been the one to have called out her name.

Damian Nazarov.

Kari passed the array of men in her descent – who continued on towards the foreigner in their midst –, her hasty travels blurred by unshed tears, and Damian’s clad knees met the soil just as she tumbled into his awaiting embrace. By the force of gravity, she almost toppled them over; so ferociously did she wish to be within her surrogate father’s warm embrace after having suffered through such a frightening ordeal. Death had, after all, come knocking upon her door but minutes prior – had it not been for ‘Not Lukas’, that was.-

“Father,”-the girl-child wetly sobbed, the bridge of her nose pressed against his throat as he, trembling, cradled the back of her skull so desperately he feared he may break her tender neck. A poor fledgling, she would be if it was so. Soot stained his cheeks, marred into his skin; just like the men who, further up the hill, met Volo.- “Oh, father… I- I’ve been so afraid!”

-(A large hand set itself upon Volo’s broad shoulder alongside a question of his state. ‘No weeping, boy. It doesn’t suit you. Now, tell us your name.’)-

-What followed was a display unlike any other. For like the father he was, he tutted at her like a babe. Hushed and cradled her within his embrace until she calmed before, methodically, unraveling her from himself. Gently, he cupped her flustered cheeks – plump and full with youth still. Then, without a word more, he delivered a tremendous backhand cut that caught her smack on her hard little cheekbone.  And then, the remorse, the poignant sweetness of sobbing atonement. Damian hissed in her ear that he had feared so deeply for her life – that he had spoken to Marnie, that thoughtless woman, and learned of her lonesome travels beyond their village gates. By her admission, her tearful relief and admission of fear – he deemed that he had been right to worry.

As he so often was.-

“What has happened to you,”-he asked, kissing her cheek and wiping grime from her tender brow.- “You’re dirty and have no herbs to speak of, tell me nothing but the truth.”

-Kari held on to his wrists through it all.- “A beast,”-she voiced, raw and through fresh tears.- “A beast unlike any other, father. I- The fjälljägare must have missed it last they were out, I still have no idea what it was but it was horrid and foul and oh, father…”

“A beast?”-Damian pressed, shaking her lightly to keep her attentive. To not let her get lost in sorrow, in her need for comfort. He would give it, proper, in time. But not when there supposedly was harm within those woods still.- “There are no beasts left, Ivarr reported a clean purge but last week and-“

“There was!”-Rarely did the young girl raise her voice, least of all towards him, but… Today? Today, she did. Within his grasp, Kari pried herself; until she could stretch out the length of her arm.

His icy gaze followed and met a sight most perplexing.-

“He knows,”-Kari pleaded.-“He saw it too and he… Father, he protected me. He helped.”

-The chirping of an outsider amongst the people. No engagement, but a lingering presence. The young women who had seen him were growing weary, father.-

“He caught the beast!”

-And, certainly, Damian had seen the outsider before. A foreigner without purpose in their midst who had, somehow, helped his little girl when she’d needed it the most.  Why, was an answer of which he could not guess himself towards. Therefore, when the vagabond met his gaze – an ocean of gagea lutea between them – Damian reached out.-

In a short, consistent gestures, he beckoned the young man forth.-

deusvocat​:

   “Caught…? How…?”

   Volo realised that his hand was now upon the girl’s cheek. She must have moved it there, and he had only just become aware of it. It was another gesture he’d never experienced before, but before he could start wondering what it meant, he found himself biting back amusement.

   She doesn’t know how to catch a Pokémon.

  It had been a long time since Volo had felt such an urge to laugh. It was one of those lesser human needs, he’d realised. Certainly not as essential as food or warmth, perhaps not even as important as conversation or company, but a need nevertheless.

   His teeth seized upon his lower lip, but they weren’t strong enough. As they gave way, he wanted to cover his mouth for the sake of politeness, but instead, his free hand rose to his aching ribs, trying to hold them still as laughter vibrated through his chest. He managed to steal just one clear breath to speak.

“Forgive me! I’m not laughing at you…”

   Volo supposed, even as he said it, that it wasn’t quite true. For he was laughing at her, with her bewildered expression, eyes wide and blank, unsure where to look. And he was laughing at the idea that he could have mistaken her for someone so different in spirit, if not in appearance. Akari had been spat out of the space-time rift with more knowledge about the capture of Pokémon than anyone else in Hisui, and the thought of her looking so confused only sustained Volo’s laughter.

   Oh, but she did look like that once, didn’t she?

   When the fabric of reality cracked open, prised apart by shadowy wings that rose to blot out the moon and swallow the stars. Nothing but darkness on the other side, darkness of a depth that had never been seen or imagined before. A deep chill which somehow moved both insidiously and instantly - not in the air, not upon the wind, but through veins and nerves and marrow…

   Seeing unspeakable creatures emerge from inhuman dimensions was nothing new for this little “chosen one”. Even Giratina’s terrifying cry and the trembling of the temple’s foundations barely shook her. But when she realised that this horror was at Volo’s command, summoned as an arrow upon the bow of his hatred, then her eyes widened just like that. Irises of the very same slate blue quivered, pupils becoming black holes in their desperate search for light and understanding.   

   And Volo laughed at her bewilderment, too.

   Then, still laughing, he ordered her death.

   “Giratina, strike her down...”

   The early spring sun was obscured by branches, not by shadowy wings and dust. Those vertical lines, rising up like the bars of a prison, were not the temple’s broken columns, but tree trunks. Volo blinked several times, trying to readjust his vision. He wasn’t sure when, but he had stopped laughing. His chest still ached. When he looked down, the girl who was not Akari stared back at him. He swallowed hard.

“Forgive me,” he said, yet again, his voice much more subdued now. His thumb twitched against her skin. “I’ve…it’s been a very long time since I met someone who isn’t familiar with how to use…with how beasts can be captured.”

   For now, that was his only answer. The method was no secret, of course, but Volo had no desire to lay a hand upon any of the Poké Balls in his satchel just yet. Had he an empty one, perhaps…but he did not, and Garchomp loosing itself from its capsule had troubled him.

   Fortunately, the girl did not push for an explanation, for she had more pressing concerns. She wished to be safe, and she wished to return home.

   Volo had hoped to steal away, and he certainly didn’t relish the thought of being seen by these unfamiliar townspeople - he, an unkempt stranger, escorting a frightened young girl home. Would his appearance scare them? And would he be expected to speak, too? Would he have to repeat, as best he could, the version of events that the girl believed to be true? It was one thing to lie through silence, but to find words, words that would satisfy whichever suspicious ears were to meet them at the gate…?

   But his guilt had become a thread of obligation, and though he sighed quietly, Volo nodded in agreement. “Oh, but we cannot forget your basket! Foraging is hard work. Noble work. Shame to let it go to waste…”

   His voice was full of artificial brightness as his gaze returned to the remnants of that work. Glad of the excuse to untangle himself, he gently shook the girl’s fingers from his clothing and strode through fallen leaves, seizing the basket by its handles before its owner could object.

   If she believed him to be a gentleman, she would allow him to carry it.

   Though some of the contents had spilled, it was clear enough which plants she had been gathering. Volo swept them up with his other hand. He thought of settling the basket’s muddied handles into the crook of his arm, as a lady might, but on consideration he let it remain in his fingers, for it prevented that hand from being recaptured by his companion. After months of solitude, to be touched more than fleetingly was overwhelming.

   (Volo thought he knew all he could possibly know about living in isolation, but he had only just learned that.)

   As they began to walk, Volo’s other hand also disappeared out of reach, delving into the tattered leather satchel at his waist. This was not, though, for the sole sake of refusing to hold the girl’s hand. His fingers moved across the six Poké Balls in his bag, tracing their carved letters one by one, until he found the one that felt like a cross.

   Even if he’d been cursed by a terrible failure in technology - he’d never taken the chance to ask Professor Laventon if Poké Balls had an expiry date, or if one should replace their clasps every so often - Togekiss would be no threat, were she to break free.

   She would not break free.

“You wanted to know how a beast may be captured, miss…?”

   Avoiding any sudden movements, Volo withdrew his hand from his satchel, clutching the capsule even more tightly than usual. After glancing to ensure he’d picked up the right one, he lowered his hand to somewhere around the girl’s shoulder height, but as far away as his arm would allow. He held the ball with his palm turned upwards, showing the tarnished metal lock that held its two wooden halves together.

“You see, beasts - Pokémon have a wondrous ability to shrink themselves and become very small. Then they can be captured in a device such as this.” It was a meagre explanation, but Volo was no scientist. “It was unfair of me to laugh at you for not knowing. They were only invented a matter of years ago. Within your own lifetime, I’m quite sure. Before then, we simply had to befriend Pokémon - the gentler ones - and hope that they would follow, and be kind and loyal to us. Is it still that way, then, in your village?”

-His profile was a luminous crimson from where she sat, blotting out the sun beyond tall tree crowns and the distant mountainside. Yet despite this golden hue, the shadows cast by his tow locks were deeper upon his features than before – even as laughter distorted his lips, skin and brow. He, Volo – this vagabond of earth and soil – cradled her on his own accord as he cackled into her face and had the stomach to wheeze out that please, dear child… It wasn’t you whom he was displaying such mirth about. Kari mostly felt embarrassed and ashamed, and perhaps a little bit unsure – for she didn’t fully understand what it was that she had said that could’ve warranted a reaction such as that. But perhaps it wasn’t for her to know either. Rather than speak, her cheeks simply puffed up like the coat of a young fowl – pouting as little girls tend to do when they wish for sympathy.

Only when his laughter faltered and his expression fell did hers, too, change.

The world, then, seemed very quiet.

If she was to be asked to describe what she had seen in him just then, then Kari would’ve struggled to find the right words. For the crinkles at the corners of his eyes faded and softened – the lines of his cheeks, gone. And had she not known any better, then she would’ve thought that he was capable of seeing through her rather than past her: because his eyes grew murky and lost. (He reminded her a bit of a child, truth be told. One even younger than her.) What did he think of, there in his thoughts, she wondered? One of her hands, once weaved tightly into his wear, shifting to cup his palm where it laid against her cheek. She’d rarely seen someone – least of all a man – get lost within themselves so quickly; and, in truth, it was quite disconcerting.-

-When Damian got like that, she knew he needed space. With him? She could only think to give comfort by that of a soft, quiet squeeze of his palm.-

-With time, the wick within his eyes lit aflame. When they met hers, she couldn’t help but give a furrow to her brow. A question without words, and he gave his answer. He asked for forgiveness, and admitted, roughly, that it had been so long since he’d last met someone like her… And ah, Kari thought. That was where his dreams had taken him.

Her answer to his plea came next. Her voice, equally soft. Accompanied by that of a smile which lacked a single, discolored tooth.-

“… You’re alright.”

-She wrung her hands within her lap as he left her side to gather belongings that weren’t his to take. Recited words flooded back into her thoughts - Chamomile can calm nervousness… The parts used on the Alfalfa is the leaves, stem and sprouts. Boswellia is good for treating mild fevers and throat problems. Butterbur. A good anti-inflammatory agent. Kindly, Lukas – no, no, that wasn’t right still… – gathered the herbs that had spilled from her basket and Kari felt her cheeks heat with a new kind of shame. Her trip had yielded less material than it should’ve, yet she found herself incapable of truly desiring to linger within the quiet woods for much longer. Even with the vagabond at her side, this man who wielded beasts and thought it silly that she did not, Kari simply didn’t feel safe enough to do so.

She hoped that what she’d gathered was enough for what Marnie needed – and that it was a band aid upon the wound that surely would open between the nurse and pastor once she was safely back home. Marnie, of course, couldn’t have known of the beast; but Damian often didn’t need a reason for anger should harm come to those he held dear. It took her longer than it should’ve to gather the strength into her limbs to stand, and longer still to fall in step behind the foreign man. A pace or two behind him, she came to linger, slow (or perhaps her legs simply were too short, compared to his) and as quiet as a mouse.

She’d taken note of it before, the appearance of him. But now, even when stood upright– she couldn’t help but marvel at his height. The broadness of his shoulders, his poor posture. Golden locks twined together into a messy, greasy braid. (She found herself fingering at her own greasy bangs where her veil stopped covering and left her hair bare, and perhaps a hint of envy bubbled forth that her locks weren’t quite as long as his…) The thing that perhaps stood out the most, however, was how small her basket looked in his hands.

She’d thought it to have been quite large.-

-‘You wanted to know how a beast may be captured, miss…?’-

-Kari almost wandered into him at his sudden words, only stopping short by perhaps pure luck. Focus, she chastised herself in her thoughts, before her attention was drawn to exactly it was that he’d said. Or rather, what he was showing her. If she’d thought her basket looked small within his grasp, then wooden shell aged by time and use was simply petite. Yet she could feel, as he extended it towards her, that there was more to this trick than met the eye – and though she didn’t understand him (despite his efforts of simplifying) – Kari’s eyes filled with something akin to childlike wonder and awe.-

“… There’s a beast hidden within this?”-Came her question, doubt clear in her tone. That she refused to change her terms – keeping to beast, rather than Pokémon – was a matter of habit and principal. Only foreigners such as he, and for a time Marnie, referred to them as such. But the nurse had long since lost the habit and adopted their vocabulary.- “We…  No, we don’t keep such things at all in my village. Father has decided that they are far too dangerous and- And so we try and purge them from the forests around our village for the safety of the children and women.”

-A smile did, however, follow her previously cruel words.-

“But… we do keep Starly’s in the aviary.”

-Instinctually, as the mouth of the forest neared and rolling hills begun to form – in the distance, wooden stakes and towers loomed – Kari almost reached to take the hard shell within her own palms. But just as her fingertips brushed upon its carvings – a cross, she noted; was he religious despite his wanderer ways? – she hesitated. Fearful once more.-

Woohoo Kneel down Pet Kill

bold what definitely applies to your muse. (italicise sometimes) repost, do not reblog.

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aries : tries to do everything at once, doesn’t know when to stop and take care of themselves,  bends over backwards for everyone even if someone did them dirty,  has entirely too much on their plate.

taurus : idealistic,  spends a lot of time trying to impress others,  doesn’t like to apologize, eating is a coping mechanism or just addictive personalities in general,  a tad codependent.

gemini : the most flip floppy people ever, what’s today’s mood ?, never apologizes, in denial 90% of the time,  their way is the highway,  desperately needs a break, they have a hard time setting goals because their goals scare them.

cancer : the literal meaning of I’ll give you the shirt off my back,  isolates themselves in fear of someone hurting them, wants to change but is scared of change,  complains a lot but never takes advice people give them.

leo : no one takes them seriously because they feel they always have to portray themselves as the fun one,  is actually really sad inside ,  honestly needs a hug ,  exhausted always.

virgo :  can dish it but can’t take it,  rushes everything,  anxious,  plans their future but forgets to live in the moment,   sometimes ignores their friends because they have so much on their mind,   talks about themselves a lot and sometimes forgets to ask the other person how they are.

libra : solves everyone’s problems but their own, is actually really sad and lonely,  gets easily heartbroken but tries not to show it,  will do anything to justify bad decisions,  honestly just wants everyone to love them but doesn’t really love their self.

scorpio : easily set off,  will give anyone the cold shoulder at any time even without reason, keeps a lot in,  so observant that they often times find out things that hurt them,   too many “what ifs” swirling in their heads,  has trouble showing their true selves.

sagittarius : impatient,  brash, commitment issues,  body issues,  doesn’t realize they don’t need to change for anyone,  has a lot of different goals to a point where they get overwhelmed,  just wants to disappear and do what they want without anyone questioning them.

capricorn : scared people won’t like them unless they’re at the top of their game 24/7, takes a LOT for them to talk about their feelings,  secretly struggling,  fake happy,  needs a plan but doesn’t know what that plan is,  confident but insecure at the same time,  wants to be stable but sometimes wishes they could drop everyone’s expectations of them and live normally.

aquarius : gets heartbroken like 30 times a week,  trust issues,  can be unmotivated and disinterested,  feels they have to adapt to every person they meet so they can be liked,  doesn’t know how to tap into their emotions despite being very intuitive,  confused,  expects little.